


Change

by queenofroses12



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Ending, BAMF Charles Xavier, Canon Divergence, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Fix-It of Sorts, Friendship/Love, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Good Erik Lehnsherr, Hurt Charles Xavier, Protective Erik Lehnsherr, Psychic Violence, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28506429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofroses12/pseuds/queenofroses12
Summary: Alternate ending for X-Men First Class. What if Charles had been able to reach Erik's mind at the last moment, when the missiles had been fired... Written because the parting of the team was so awful to watch. Let me know what you guys think.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr & Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr & Hank McCoy & Raven | Mystique & Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 69





	Change

The Russian ship vanished in a fireball, destroyed by their own side. The trigger for the third world war would have to be something different.

“The telepath.” Shaw smiled, almost admiringly. “He’s more powerful than we thought.” He glanced at Azazel. “Too powerful to risk.” The mutant nodded, understanding what Shaw ordered.

“Be swift.” Shaw added unnecessarily as he vanished.

“Charles!” Raven called out, but the warning came too late.

The young telepath had been standing a few feet away from the rest of the team. In a whirl of blood red, Azazel was behind him. Erik and Hank darted forward, but before they could do anything (what could be done?), the attacker was gone, and Charles was falling.

“Charles!” Erik caught him. “Charles! Hank, get that damn med kit!”

Moira was already by with it, shoving it into Hank’s arms. Hank glanced down at his changed hands for an instant. Charles was still conscious, his eyes wide in shock. He hadn’t cried out or made a sound. Erik eased him gently to the sand, cradling his head in his lap.

“It’s not so bad, Charles. You’re gonna be fine. Right, Hank?”

Hank grinned with a confidence he did not feel. “You bet. That guy’s aim sucks.”

Azazel had missed the heart, true, or Charles would have been dead before they could get to his side, but he had pierced a lung. And pretty badly, by the look of it. Raven tried to smile reassuringly at her brother, but couldn’t quite manage it. She reached out to take his hand – it felt cold.

Of the group gathered around their wounded leader, Moira was the only one who had the training how to handle something like this. Naturally, she was the one who recovered first.

“We still got our fight to finish.”Every eye except Hank’s turned to her, as if she’d gone mad. “Shaw and team are still out there, and they’re not going to waste time. Hank, Raven, stay with Charles. The rest of you, with me.”

For a moment Erik looked as if he wanted to slug het, but he too had known combat, known death. Too much of it.

“Hold on, kid.” He murmured, stroking Charles’ hair gently once more. Then he got to his feet, his eyes as cold and hard as they had been every time he killed. “We’ll need a new plan. Charles can’t…”

“I can” Charles’ voice was a choked whisper, but none the less determined. The others, even Moira, looked at him in surprise.

“You’re hurt.”

“Not…Not that bad.” He tried to smile. “Plus, I… have to, you know. No..No time for…new..plan..”

“Wanna bet?” Raven demanded, but even she knew Charles was right. They had one shot, and only one shot, at Shaw and his crew. If that didn’t work…Well, goodbye World.

“Are you sure you can hold on, Charles?” Moira asked gently. She had pushed whatever she felt for him to the back of her mind. Right now Charles was a fellow combatant, no more, no less. She needed to be sure whether she could count on him. “If we go ahead and you fold halfway..”

“I’m sure.”A trickle of blood ran down the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t try to talk” Hank ordered. He looked back up at Moira and Erik. “I can halt the bleeding for a while.” The external bleeding. If there was internal bleeding, there was nothing he could do, not without better facilities. “Bandage it up. But he won’t be able to manage it for long.”

“For..For as long…as long as I have to.”

“I said, don’t talk.”

Moira nodded. “You’ll have to be quick, Erik.”

Lensherr gave her a humorless smile. “I will.”

…………………………

He did mean to be quick.

Of course, Shaw had to be killed, that was something he had made up his mind about already. He was not sure whether he had managed to actually hide that thought from Charles or whether even the naïve telepath had accepted the necessity.

After all, what else could be done? You could hardly hope to lock him away in some prison and be done with it. He had made up his mind to be swift about it, though. End it in an instant, eliminate the danger. There was no way to be sure how long Charles could hold on.

But when the time came, the image of his mother crumpling to the floor, the image of that unmoving silver coin, was all too much. He couldn’t just kill him and be done with it. That wouldn’t be enough, wouldn’t be payment. Maybe if Shaw hadn’t had that smug smile on his lips the instant before the shielding helmet had been ripped away, then maybe Erik could have chosen the sensible option

. But the scars in his mind ran too deep, much too deep to be healed even by his newfound family, even by Charles. That smile was the last straw, and once more, the softer veneer slid away from him, leaving only the hunter, the avenger of blood.

“I’m going to move this coin” he said softly, looking into those cold eyes before him. “On the count of three. One…”

He knew Shaw could feel perfectly well. It was only his motor controls that Charles had locked down. He could visualize Shaw screaming inside, perhaps pleading for mercy. He had heard so many, too many, pleading. Pleading to men like the creature that stood before him.

“Two…”

What Erik did not know was that Charles’ mind was linked deep enough with Shaw’s for the telepath to experience exactly what Shaw was feeling.

“Three.”

The brain does not have pain receptors, per se. The actual, physical pain was that of the metal coin slowly, inexorably, forcing it’s way through skin and skull, through the membranous layers of the dura mater. That was bad enough. But more than that was the psychic pain of a mind that was being quite literally torn apart from the inside, shutting down bit by agonizing bit, as the coin travelled through grey matter, slicing and crushing. Shaw, frozen, could not scream.

Charles did. He couldn’t pull away from the pain, either. Shaw may still retain enough of himself to lash out at Erik in a dying flail. He had to hold on. The telepath was no longer aware of those around him, of Hank trying desperately to hold him still, to stop his agonized thrashing from tearing open his wounds, of Raven calling his name, horrified, none of them with any idea what was happening except that something had gone horribly wrong.

There was only pain, pain and madness of a dying mind. And then, finally, the end. Charles was almost drawn into death with Shaw. He would almost have welcomed it, just as a respite from the pain. Fortunately, his subconscious mind held enough survival instinct to break away from the link in time.

Erik emerged from the submarine, Shaw’s corpse floating behind him. But whatever words he had planned to say died on his lips as he saw the small group huddled around a still form on the ground.

“Erik!” Raven called out. “Hurry!”

Erik ran, Shaw’s corpse falling to the ground unnoticed. He had heard that note in too many voices in the past. The tone of the deathbed vigil. He fell to his knees beside Charles, not even bothering to glance at any of the others. They did not matter, not right now. All he could see was his friend’s still, deathpale face, the trickle of blood from his mouth and nose the only color left.

“What…What happened to him?”

Moira looked grim. “He was linked to Shaw when…Shaw’s dead, I presume?” Erik nodded numbly. “I think…he felt him die.”

The look of stunned horror on Erik’s face was proof enough, even if Charles’ screams hadn’t been, that Shaw’s death had neither been quick nor easy.

“He was thrashing around, screaming.” Hank murmured. “It tore open the wound worse.” Blood was soaking through the bandages, too quick, too red. Life blood. “We’ve to get him to a hospital.” Charles’ eyes flutter open, unfocussed. He tried to say something.

“Hey” Hank soothed. “It’s okay now, we won.”

“E..Erik..”

“I’m here, Charles.” Erik’s voice was choked too, with pain and shame. He had done this. Hurt Charles. Perhaps killed him. “We’re all here. We’re okay.”

“Erik…I…”

“Don’t talk!” Hank ordered yet again. “You can say whatever it is later. Now just lie still.”

Charles was not going to obey. It was clear that he feared there wouldn’t be a later. Erik pulled the shielding helmet off, flinging it to the side in his frantic haste.

“Think it at me, if you can.”

He didn’t notice Moira unobtrusively picking up the helmet and moving with it as far away from him as she could _._

 _Erik_.

Charles’ voice spoke in his mind.

_Are you okay?_

_Am I okay? That’s what you are asking, Charles? You’re the one who nearly…Oh God, Charles I’m sorry!_

Dumb word, sorry. He had long ago learned how inept, almost insulting, those words sounded ‘I’m sorry’, he had had it said to him by too many times – the do-gooders who’d tried to help the rescued kids, the ones he had hunted, the ones who were not too pureblooded to grovel…No, he wouldn’t think about that now, won’t make Charles listen in to all that damn sordid stuff..

I’m sorry.

An idiotically inadequate set of words, but what else was there to say?

I didn’t know…Didn’t know you would..If I knew you were feeling what he..

 _It’s okay, Erik_. Amazing, how calm Charles manages to sound. There’s so little anger there, so little anger in him _. I am…This isn’t your fault, you couldn’t know_.

_I had to kill him, Charles. There was no other way out. No prison that could hold him. And no prison that could be what he deserved._

_I knew he had to die. I…I just didn’t want you to be the one who pulled the trigger. It should have been Moira. Or one of her people. Someone to whom it’d just have been a job. Just their duty. You…You’re already hurting so bad, Erik. And this..this killing…It just hurts you worse.._

_You don’t know anything about it._

_I do. I am in your mind, Erik. I know all you do, and you know this._

_I didn’t know it would…backlash to you. I swear I wouldn’t have done it if I knew, Charles. I never meant to hurt you. You, Raven, Hank…Our people. Our team. I never meant to hurt you._

_I know that. So do they. Well, maybe not Moira._

_She doesn’t matter._

_Doesn’t she?_

_Not to me._

_You can’t lie to me when we’re talking like this._

_Let’s not do this often, then._

A chuckle at that.

 _It’s over, Erik_.

Softer now, soothing. And it’s working. He can feel some kind of calmness, warmth, washing over him. Charles is not messing with his mind, not manipulating it intentionally. Some days, maybe even some hours, ago he may have doubted that. But not now. This is not intentional, not manipulation. Just the effect of his presence, an aura, so to speak.

_It’s over, right? Shaw was the last one. The one you wanted the most. He’s gone. You got him. Now it’s over. The hunt is over._

_That hunt is._

Someone shouted a warning. Erik jolted out of whatever mind link he and Charles had been sharing. The others were looking at the ships – the American ones, the Russian ones. All moving together now, in sync.

“No…” Moira whispers.

The others may be confused, but she knew what was happening. What was about to happen. She didn’t want to believe it, but she did know, just as well as he did. The common enemy.

The calm that had infused his mind from Charles’ drained away, drowning under the older, stronger emotions. The ones he’s used to. When the missiles emerged from the lined battle cruisers, Erik was not surprised. He had been prepared for something like this, and soon. Had not expected it to be this soon, though. The Neanderthals were beginning to run. Run and throw stones.

His eyes narrowed. The missiles froze in mid-air. A small cheer went up, but died away as the warheads turned. Erik’s eyes were cold slits now. He could hear the others shouting. Moira was warning him. He sensed her raise her weapon. What did the woman think she could do? The bullets did not even come close to hitting him.

The missiles made their inexorable way back. Live by the sword, he thought, feeling the wild rage fill him again. They wanted them dead, did they?

 _ERIK_!

The word was a scream in his mind. Charles must have passed out for a minute or two back there, recovering only now to see what was happening. Erik tried to shut him out, then realized he had made a big mistake. The helmet, the shield, where was it? Moira…

In a minute, it would have flown into his hands. But Charles knew better than to give him that minute. They froze. All of them. Him, Moira, the missiles, everything, like some bizarre tableau.

 _All right, Charles. You win_. He murmured in his thoughts. _You win. Let them get away. Get away so that they can come up with a better plan to end us. You still want to belong, don’t you? Even after everything, you still want to belong. Want to be on their side._

Charles did not reply. Not verbally, at least. Erik gasped as the perspective shifted. For a moment, he was looking out through Charles’ eyes. At the group frozen under the telepath’s power.

 _See what I see_ , Charles whispered. _See, and then decide for yourself_.

They were in one of the ships now.

The humans – the navy men- all eyes fixed on the warheads that hung motionless before them in mid-air, a Damocles Sword halted by means they knew nothing about. They did not dare move the ships away, try to dodge, as they would have done in a real battle. They were too terrified to interfere, he realized. Any move of theirs may be the cue for the unknown adversary to complete his assault.

 _I already know there are people aboard, Charles._ He let his tone show the contempt he felt. _Believe me, I knew perfectly well._

_Listen._

He listened. Their thoughts- a jumble of words, images, sounds – swirled around him and Charles _._

_Freddie, sweetie, Daddy won’t be coming home._

_I should have let her know. Kitty.._

_Damn it all!_

_OhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGod…_

_Why don’t they get it over with? Are they playing with us?_

_The Captain goes down with the ship. I just wish I could have gotten my men away._

_Mom. She’s gonna take it so hard…Please let them be kind to her._

_I wish I had kissed Linnet goodbye._

_I am sorry._

_Please let it be quick…_

_For Heaven’s sake, did I survive the war just to get killed by another set who wants to play Master Race?_

Images too, a wild whirlpool threatening to drown him, if not for Charles’ sure grip on his arm.

A woman, smiling and waving goodbye.

A suburb house, the paint peeling and dull, but with a golden aura cast over it.

A little eight year old boy grinning impishly.

The whisper of a secret, shared kiss.

Whatever each of these strangers had chosen to dwell over at the moment of death.

He now knew why the guards at the camps refused to look them in the eye. When you see their eyes, you may get to thinking of them as people. It’s not easy to kill when you have to see that them as people. It wasn’t easy at all.

_Erik…_

And he’s back at the beach, staggering as the control broke, free once more of the powerful mind that had held him locked in it’s grip a moment ago.

_Choose, Erik._

_I don’t want to play master race_.

With an inner shriek of rage, he whipped his hand through the air. The missiles changed course, swerving away in one determined bunch away from the ships. Away from the humans. And plunged, harmless, into the waves, too far away to cause harm even by accident. The choice was made.

Moira looked at him, her weapon still in hand. Their eyes met, locked, for one long instant. Then, as if satisfied, she holstered her gun.

“Did you really think that would be of any use, agent?”

“It could have been.”

They both knew just how complicated things had become. Just how desperate. They knew that now they belonged to opposing camps.

“Erik?” Raven’s voice was almost a sob. They – the human and the mutant- turned towards the girl kneeling in the sand, her brother’s head cradled in her lap. “Erik, I think…I think he’s..”

“He’s not dead!” Erik shouted. He can’t be. He just can’t. it wouldn’t be fair, not after all this, not after winning…

CHARLES!

He calls out in his mind, reaching desperately for any threads of the connection that had been between them a few moments ago.

Charles, don’t you dare quit! Not now!

There was no reply, but he felt the presence of a distant warmth. Charles was still with them.

“He’s alive” Hank affirmed, relief and surprise plain in his voice. “I don’t know how, but he’s still holding on. We need to get him to…No, I guess we can’t take him to a hospital, can we?”

“The Mansion” Erik managed to pull himself back together. “You have that hospital set up of yours there. Would that do?”

“We’ll have to hope so.”

“Alex, Sean, get a stretcher, there should be a folded one back there on the jet.”

As Alex and Sean darted away, Erik spotted why Moira had taken no part in the discussion. Her weapon was out again, and her eyes fixed on Riptide and Angel. Azazel was nowhere to be seen. He evidently had enough sense not to come within Erik’s line of fire.

“What do we do with them?”

Both the opponents – one of whom had been sort of a friend for a very little while – looked back at them. Angel Salvadore looked like she intended to plead for mercy, but didn’t dare speak for fear of setting Magneto off again. Erik and Moira looked at each other. The decision would have to be theirs. With Charles down, they were the ones in charge.

“I suppose you want to give them to your people?”

“I couldn’t care less about him. But she’s a kid.”

Erik knew what Charles would have done. Gone up to them and offered them the chance to team up, turn over a new leaf, all that clichéd nonsense. And the weirdest thing was, they may well have taken him up on the offer too. Charles sometimes had that effect on people. However, he was not Charles. Besides, unlike the telepath, he had no way to know for sure whether or not they meant what they said.

“What are you going to do?” Moira asked, her eyes fixed on the pair.

“Does that translate as ‘Are you going to come quietly?’” Salvadore snarled. The brief moment when she had been tempted to beg for mercy had passed.

“ I can’t – and I won’t if I could – let you off the hook.” The agent’s tone was cold, businesslike. “But we have no intention of trusting the guys out there enough to go hand you over.”

“Just leave us alone.”

“How long do you think it would be before they come looking?”

“Long” Riptide smiled a little. “It’d take them a while to get into clean pants after that display of yours.”

“Just go” the girl said, before Erik could reply. “ We…We’ll try and get away on our own.”

“And if you can’t?”

“That’s on us, isn’t it?”

He understood. Azazel. The creature was not gone, just hiding somewhere, somewhere on the island. Moira saw his expression and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“We don’t have time for this, Erik.”

Much as he hated to admit it, she was right. He would find the time though. Soon. Very soon. And if Charles didn’t make it, the hunt would be far from over. For now, he turned away.


End file.
